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The Project Gutenberg Etext of Moby Dick, by - Plano Library ...

The Project Gutenberg Etext of Moby Dick, by - Plano Library ...

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<strong>Mo<strong>by</strong></strong> <strong>Dick</strong> or <strong>The</strong> Whale<br />

the jet is fairly spouted into your eyes, it will blind you. <strong>The</strong> wisest thing the investigator<br />

can do then, it seems to me, is to let this deadly spout alone.<br />

Still, we can hypothesize, even if we cannot prove and establish. My hypothesis is this:<br />

that the spout is nothing but mist. And besides other reasons, to this conclusion I am<br />

impelled, <strong>by</strong> considerations touching the great inherent dignity and sublimity <strong>of</strong> the<br />

Sperm Whale; I account him no common, shallow being, inasmuch as it is an undisputed<br />

fact that he is never found on soundings, or near shores; all other whales sometimes<br />

are. He is both ponderous and pr<strong>of</strong>ound. And I am convinced that from the<br />

heads <strong>of</strong> all ponderous pr<strong>of</strong>ound beings, such as Plato, Pyrrho, the Devil, Jupiter, Dante,<br />

and so on, there always goes up a certain semi-visible steam, while in the act <strong>of</strong> thinking<br />

deep thoughts. While composing a little treatise on Eternity, I had the curiosity to place<br />

a mirror before me; and ere long saw reflected there, a curious involved worming and<br />

undulation in the atmosphere over my head. <strong>The</strong> invariable moisture <strong>of</strong> my hair, while<br />

plunged in deep thought, after six cups <strong>of</strong> hot tea in my thin shingled attic, <strong>of</strong> an August<br />

noon; this seems an additional argument for the above supposition.<br />

And how nobly it raises our conceit <strong>of</strong> the mighty, misty monster, to behold him solemnly<br />

sailing through a calm tropical sea; his vast, mild head overhung <strong>by</strong> a canopy <strong>of</strong><br />

vapour, engendered <strong>by</strong> his incommunicable contemplations, and that vapour--as you<br />

will sometimes see it--glorified <strong>by</strong> a rainbow, as if Heaven itself had put its seal upon<br />

his thoughts. For, d’ye see, rainbows do not visit the clear air; they only irradiate vapour.<br />

And so, through all the thick mists <strong>of</strong> the dim doubts in my mind, divine intuitions<br />

now and then shoot, enkindling my fog with a heavenly ray. And for this I thank<br />

God; for all have doubts; many deny; but doubts or denials, few along with them, have<br />

intuitions. Doubts <strong>of</strong> all things earthly, and intuitions <strong>of</strong> some things heavenly; this<br />

combination makes neither believer nor infidel, but makes a man who regards them<br />

both with equal eye.<br />

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